


Fresh Start

by orphan_account



Category: Glee, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Abuse, Depression, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi, Self-Harm, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-23 19:31:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7476972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war, Harry moved to Lima with George Weasley and enrolled in McKinley High. However, having a normal life doesn't go as planned when George starts abusing him. Will Harry speak out, or will he hide it until he can't anymore? AU from 4th year onwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Harry Potter tapped his pen against the table, ignoring the teacher talking about the Second World War.

Due to the fact Hermione had used a charm to make him have a photographic memory while she taught him all she could, the lessons were useless, but it was okay. He was doing more than moping about.

However, history was boring, and he needed something to do, so he thought he’d start writing a song.

Hermione had found out, by walking into the bathroom while Harry was having a shower, that he was actually an amazing singer, and had suggested that rather than letting his emotions bottle up, he should sing. That way, no one ever had to know.

However, when the war came towards its end, Hermione was hit with a curse that slowly killed her over a period of 12 hours, and she was gone before the final battle ended.

Luckily, they had already sorted a plan, ready for the end. Harry would go off to America and enrol in school, starting a new life for himself. He would go with someone he could trust, and build a place he couldn’t associate with bad things. She taught him everything possible while on the run, preparing him for the worst.

Well, that’s what Hermione said. She also said to consider trusting adults around him, but that was easier said than done.

Now Harry was living in the States pretty much alone. George had come with him, being the only Weasley left. Fred had died shielding Ginny from the same curse that had hit Hermione, Ginny being hit squarely in the back with a rouge killing curse seconds later.

Molly and Arthur died together, holding each other’s hands, back to back with their wands out. Their last words, as they saw the end nearing, were ‘I love you’, their lives ending less than a second later.

Ron had accidently killed Charlie when he missed his shot, and fell to his death. Ron couldn’t carry on fighting knowing he had harmed his own flesh and blood, so he surrendered and let Bellatrix have her way, knowing Hermione was dying anyway. He would meet her there.

They never found Fleur, Percy or Bill’s bodies, but they were last seen fighting side by side moments before the quidditch pitch went up in flames.

Although George had come with him, George wasn’t whole. He had broken since Fred’s death. He tried to hide it, tried to act normal, but he needed Fred, and there was no way to bring Fred back.

Harry was just scared that one day, George would blame him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do? This is mainly a background chapter, but it will set things up for the rest of the story. Thanks for reading, please comment.


	2. I Must Not Tell Lie

“Hi, I’m Kurt. I noticed you in history, but you sat too far away for me to talk to you,” A tall pale boy with blue (or are they green?) eyes said. His hair was perfectly styled and, although feminine, he was impeccably dressed, “and you did the same for our other 2 lessons.”

“I’m Harry, nice to meet you.” Harry said, nodding at the new information, before going to walk always, in hopes of finding the Spanish classroom before he was late.

“What lesson do you have, I could walk you to it so you don’t get lost,” Kurt offered, and Harry’s face almost split in half.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t be able to get to Spanish on time, otherwise,” Harry said, relieved. He would dare ask, but he’d always take an offer.

“Oh, you have Spanish, too. Awesome, we are in the same class. That means we can get to know each other,” Kurt said, taking Harry’s timetable from him as they began walking, and examined it closely, “You have most lessons with me, but you have two lessons with Artie, one of my friends, so you should be fine.”

“Okay,” Harry murmured, somewhat calmly. Inside, he was scared. What was he supposed to say about himself to other people?

_Hello, I’m Harry Potter. I’m 17 years old, but I’ve already physically killed 3 people and caused thousands of deaths. Pleased to meet you._

Kurt had been talking non-stop during Harry’s mini panic, not that Harry had taken any of it in, and they were now outside of the Spanish classroom. People were still in the corridor chatting and laughing, and only a minute had passed.

“Hey Mr. Schuester, this is Harry. He’s new.” Kurt said, introducing Harry to the teacher. The man nodded, smiling at Harry.

“Hello, Harry, yes I heard about you. How much Spanish do you know?” He asked, softly.

“Enough to get by,” Harry murmured, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

Mr. Schuester nodded, and sent him to sit with Kurt as the other kids were now coming in.

As the lesson began, they slipped into a mass of vocal repetition, and that didn’t bother Harry one bit, knowing he knew everything perfectly anyway.

He easily completed the worksheet he was given from history while he repeated what was said, Kurt grumbling when he still managed to pronounce everything right.

Once the lesson ended, Mr. Schuester called them back, “Harry, has Kurt told you about our Glee club? We are looking for new members, as always.”

“Um, no he hasn’t. That’s a music group isn’t it?” The question was directed at both men stood before him. Kurt nodded, his eyes lighting up.

“Does that mean you’re interested?” Kurt asked, practically bouncing.

Harry sighed, looking at Mr. Schuester, “I’ll give it a go.”

“Brilliant, the club is on after school tonight, can you come?” The teacher asked, the happiness showing in his face.

“Yeah, I can,” Harry said, thinking of George, “I’ll be there.”

“Awesome, you can audition tonight, then.” Mr. Schuester exclaimed, grinning like an idiot.

As that was decided, Kurt told Mr. Schuester they had things to do, and dragged Harry out the classroom.

“Lunch time. That means it’s time to meet my friends, and for you to actually tell me more about you than your name,” Kurt told him, happily walking towards the cafeteria with Harry.

Harry nodded, tugging on his sleeves to make sure his hand was covered. Make up and magic irritated the scar, so he used too-big hoodies to cover his hands.

“Artie,” Kurt called, and a boy in a wheelchair turned his head to look at Kurt, “Wait up.”

The boy, Artie, waited for Harry and Kurt to catch up, and they walked together, Kurt introducing the two. When they got to the cafeteria, Harry knew he was about to meet a big group of people.

Harry followed Kurt and Artie to a big table, where there 5 girls and 3 boys, but with Artie and Kurt joining, it made things pretty even.

“Guys, this is Harry, a new student. He transferred from England,” Kurt said. Harry wondered where Kurt had got his information, as Harry had never told him that, but Harry guessed it must have been his accent that gave that away.

“I’m Mercedes, nice to meet you,” A big black girl said, her voice full and loud, without being too much.

“I’m Rachel. Are you joining Glee club?” The girl with brown hair, knee high socks and a dress asked.

“His audition is tonight, Mr. Schuester already recruited him in Spanish” Kurt answered, not giving Harry a chance to say anything.

“Oh.”

The rest of the girls introduced themselves before letting the boys have a chance, and once that was over, Kurt turned to Harry, “Tell us about you.”

“Well, I’m Harry. Just Harry, nothing special.” Harry said, pulling out his lunch. He didn’t see or feel his hoodie slip, and he didn’t see the pair of eyes that saw his hand.

The scars were red and stood out from his pale skin, the words neatly carved out, like it had been done many times.

“Oh my, what does that say?” Kurt said, horrified, taking Harry’s hand into his. Automatically, Harry pulled away, covering his hand hastily.

“It’s nothing,” The automatic lie slipped from his lips without a second thought.

“It said ‘I must not tell lies.’” Rachel softly said, looking at Harry’s covered hand.

Kurt gasped, “Who did that to you?”

Harry sighed, “It was a teacher about three years ago. But that doesn’t matter, I’m safe here.”

For the rest of lunch, they chatted idly, and every time someone tried to get to know Harry, he easily deflected their conversation onto something else.

When the bell rung, everyone went their separate ways, Kurt and Harry heading to math. They were handed a worksheet and told to just do that, so Kurt tried to find out what Harry was singing for his audition, so by the time the lesson ended, Kurt was desperate.

“Come on Harry, time for your audition for glee club,” Kurt said, grabbing Harry’s hand, and attempting to drag Harry down the corridor, but Harry pulled away, the touch burning.

No one had truly touched him since Ginny’s funeral; the one where he broke down and begged to wake up from the nightmare, and still be 15 months old in his mums arms; the one where McGonagall cradled him like a baby ‘til he cried himself to sleep.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Kurt asked, confused.

“I don’t like being touched, sorry,” The apology was added on, and they made there was to

They were the first to get to the choir room, other than Mr Schuester, and he beamed.

“Glad to see you here, Harry.”

Harry nodded, and sat beside Kurt while they waited for the others to show up. It didn’t take long for them to come in, chatting with their friends.

“As you might have noticed, we have a new member auditioning today."

There was applause all around the room, everyone glad to have someone new.

"It's nice to see you all being so supportive! Harry, this is what Glee is all about; being a part of something, having a safe place to express yourself, having fun!"

Harry stood and headed to the front and faced the small group.

“Harry, what song are you singing?”

Harry murmured his answer, and he nodded, stepping back.

Stood there, before 13 people he barely knew, he felt a little nervous.

He bit back a chuckle, finding it funny that he was nervous singing in front of strangers when he had faced (and killed) the worst person in the whole of history.

As the music kicked in, he began singing, his voice soft, “Would you know my name   
If I saw you in heaven?   
Would it be the same   
If I saw you in heaven?”

The words reminded him of Hermione, the way they just worked together. He often wondered if things would be the same when he died, if his relationships stayed the way they were before that person died.

Being lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the soft gasps from the 13 people watching him, the way Rachel’s eyes widened when she realized she had competition, or the way Kurt melted from the pain in Harry’s voice.

“I must be strong   
And carry on   
'Cause I know I don't belong   
Here in heaven”

The words were a partial lie, because really, if you actually looked at it, Harry had survived the impossible. He should have died about 5 times, and that’s not even counting what his uncle did to him.

“Would you hold my hand   
If I saw you in heaven?   
Would you help me stand   
If I saw you in heaven?”

Ginny would, wouldn’t she. She’d hold his hand. She would help him with anything, and god, if she didn’t, if she didn’t hold his hand, who would.

Tears were slipping from Mercedes and Rachel’s eyes, and the other girls weren’t far behind. The pure emotion in what Harry sung made him unique, and no one saw the single tear that slid from Harry’s eyes.

“Beyond the door   
There's peace I'm sure   
And I know there'll be no more   
Tears in heaven”

The words took Harry back to when he died, when he spoke to Dumbledore that last time. He wondered whether he should have asked to die; then he wouldn’t have to be alone. Then he would be with his mum and dad, and Sirius and Remus, and Tonks, and Ginny. Then Hermione could come with Ron, finally holding hands, and Harry would have his happy ever after.

But of course, happy ever after doesn’t exist for one Harry Potter.

As the song came to an end, there were few dry eyes in the room, the untainted emotion too much for any of them to handle.

And Harry felt a sense of pride burst within him as Mr. Schue declared he was an official Glee member.

The rest of the hour passed quickly as Mr. Schuester told them about that week’s assignment, to sing a song, as a solo or duet that makes you think of someone you love.

Being the last to leave, Harry paused in the doorway, “Mr. Schuester,”

The teacher cut Harry off, “Please, call me Mr. Schue, everyone does.”

“Okay, Mr. Schue, I just wanted to say thanks for accepting me, I needed somewhere to sing. Without music, I bottle things up, and I can’t let it out.”

“I’m glad I could give you that.” He said, and Harry left, preparing for George when he got home.


	3. Black Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm glad this got a positive response, and I hope you will all keep reading, but this chapter was exhausting to write. I hope you enjoy it and read on!
> 
> This chapter does include minor abuse of alcohol and some child abuse, but if you cannot handle a few black eyes, I suggest you stop reading here. 
> 
> Songs Used:  
> Gone too Soon by Daughtry - Sung by Harry

_Black Eyes_

"It's your fault Fred is dead."

The words came of no shock to Harry, "I know."

George nodded drunkenly, "I just wanted to make sure of that."

As the 21-year-old staggered up the stairs, Harry sighed, and entered the kitchen to do his homework.

But first, he wanted to figure out what song he was going to go for Glee. Someone he loved, that was easy. He could pick Ginny, or his baby girl.

The thought of Lily stung, like it did every day, but he carried on, ignoring the tears that clouded his vision.

Okay, how to express how he felt about either? There were many songs he could pick.

Harry picked up a pencil, and drew out a table. One side for Ginny, the other for Lily.

Harry started with Ginny's side, songs instantly coming to mind.

I Can Wait Forever by Air Supply  
I'd Come for You by Nickleback

Harry then moved onto Lily's side.

I Will Carry You by Selah  
Gone too Soon by Daughtry

The lists were basic, and Harry knew he could sing each one, but he was still stuck. He didn't have favorite songs, he just loved music.

He sighed and put the list aside, grabbing his math homework. He worked through the simultaneous equations quickly, and put that aside. He looked at his Spanish homework, but he decided he'd do it later, after dinner.

"George, what do you want for dinner?" Harry called, hoping for something easy.

For a few minutes there was silence, then George responded, "I will not eat what you cook; You'll try to kill me, too."

Wow, George really is slaughtered, isn't he?

Harry shook his head, and decided he'd just cook himself some chips, so it would be done quickly. As he was cooking, George walked down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

"What you doing?" George asked, and Harry turned around.

"I'm cooking some chips for my dinner. You can have some if you'd like," Harry offered, hoping the red head would accept.

However, George shook his head, "I already told you, I didn't want anything you cooked, Potter."

Harry sighed and turned to George, "If you hate me this much, why did you offer to come with me instead of Kingsley."

George smiled, "Because your family. I can't leave you alone, can I?"

Okay, this doesn't feel right, Harry thought before responding, "No, I guess not."

George left the kitchen, letting Harry breathe a sigh of relief. He was just drunk; he always got like that after too many drinks.

Harry finished cooking, and quickly ate the meal he had cooked, wanting to finish his homework and go to bed.

He pulled his Spanish to him, and tried to complete the worksheet, but his mind was occupied with memories and fears and he just couldn't do it. He stood from the table, and went over to the fridge to take all the alcohol.

He carried the bottles of beer to the sink, and began opening them and pouring them down the drain. He managed to do three before he was disturbed yet again by George, this time, wanting a drink.

"What do you think you are doing?" George asked, in the threatening tone that Harry's uncle used to use when Harry was in trouble. Of course, George didn't know this, but it didn't stop Harry from being scared.

"I'm getting rid of all the alcohol; it's not good for you," Harry offered as an explanation. He drained the fourth bottle, before turning to face the tall redhead, but he wished he didn't.

"Follow me," The words were harsh, and Harry followed the man without question, his body not going with the instinct to run. There was something left of the 5 year old terrified to run from his scary guardian.

Harry stood before George in the beautifully decorated living room. The large TV was turned off, the curtains were drawn, and Harry could swear he had seen that scene before. He instantly took his glasses off, wanting to keep them in one shape, and it would help his lie for a black eye the next day.

_I slipped in the shower._

It was an easy lie, no details, just a basic lie; nothing suspicious.

The fist came towards him and Harry closed his eyes so he didn't know when to move away. Pain blossomed in his eye, but it was okay, because he could hear George walking away.

Once George was out the room, Harry opened his eyes, and made his way back into the kitchen for a bag of frozen peas. He then headed upstairs to his room, ignoring the sobs from George's room.

The next morning, Harry dragged himself to school, his eye throbbing. He ignored the pain and found his first classroom easily, being Spanish. He was the second one there, Kurt already being in his seat, texting on his phone.

"Morning, Harry," Mr. Schue greeted, and Harry smiled at him, slipping into his chair.

"Hey Kurt," Harry greeted, and Kurt jumped about a mile into the air, making Harry giggle.

"Oh my Gucci, Harry, don't do that!" Kurt exclaimed, pouting when Harry just laughed.

"I'm quiet, and you were lost in your own world," He offered, "It's not easy to not scare you."

Kurt smiled, and realized Harry was right, "Have you decided what song you're doing for glee? We could sing together?"

It was only a suggestion, but Harry didn't want to share the knowledge of his girls yet, so his response probably came off a little cold, "I'm not sharing my song."

Kurt looked miserable for a moment, so Harry decided he needed to fix what he had said, "I don't even know what song I'm doing yet, and the person I'll be singing about, I don't need everyone knowing."

"I can keep secrets!" Kurt protested, but Harry shook his head.

"It's not that," Harry paused, "I just can't trust anyone after… well… what happened in Britain."

Kurt sighed, and left him alone as people started piling into the room.

The lesson flew by, and he soon found himself heading to English Literature with Artie while Kurt walked with Mercedes.

The lesson wasn't difficult; the teacher vanished in 10 minutes and never came back, so Harry spent it chatting with Artie and Puck, yet again deflecting the topic of himself and his past.

It was when Harry brushed his hair back with his hand that someone noticed his eye.

"Jesus Harry, who'd you get into a fight with?" Puck exclaimed, and Harry inwardly groaned, having forgotten about the throbbing in his eye.

"The bathtub; I slipped in the shower," The lie was simple but Puck didn't look like he brought it. However, he dropped the subject, but there was something in his eyes that Harry didn't like.

After the lesson, Puck walked with him to math.

"Harry, why did you move to America? And no, you cannot deflect it, this time. Just tell me, tell us. The pain is in your eyes and we can't help you if you do not tell us."

The words were softly spoken, softer that Harry imagined Puck could speak, and he couldn't help but drop his gaze.

"I can't tell you, I don't… I don't trust you enough. I don't trust anyone."

It was a lie, but Harry knew he couldn't just say 'I only trust the dead.'

They slipped into lesson and joined Kurt, but Harry could feel Puck's eyes watching his every move.

Math was simple enough that Harry ended up drawing a picture of Ginny. Her eyes were perfectly round, her freckles in the right place and her smile was fixed. It wasn't very big, only doodled on a notepad, but it was good enough for Harry. In the corner, curved around the shape of her hair, he wrote her name.

He just didn't see Kurt watching his every move.

The rest of the day flew by, and Harry found himself back in the choir room, sat between Kurt and Brittany. Almost everyone had seen his bruise, and he had managed to give the same excuse every time, so he knew he was safe this time.

By this point, he had decided which song he was going to sing, because not a day went by that he didn't think of his little girl, his Lily. Bellatrix deserved what came for her; her messy, long death.

She was Harry's first kill, and he spent the longest on her, torturing her for 3 hours, revenge for all the deaths she causes, before stabbing her and leaving her to die.

His second kill was Fenir Greyback, and he just killed him with a killing curse, not being bothered to spend time on him. Harry just didn't have the energy.

His last kill (or that was what Harry hoped to be his last killing) was Voldemort. He shot him with a muggle gun in the stomach and again in the forehead. One shot for each of his parents.

After he finished killing, he returned to the hall and brought Ginny into his lap, whispering words into her ear, telling her how sorry he was, and how much he missed her already, and telling her to look after their little girl, raise her to know her daddy, and make sure she is forever loved.

"Okay," The work brought Harry out of his thoughts, "Who would like to do their solo or duet today?"

Rachel instantly stood up and Harry focused on her, her singing slightly predictable. She had chosen a song and copied it straight. She wasn't making it her own. She had a good voice, but she had an inability to make that song her own.

_Once you become predictable, you become vulnerable._

Moody's words didn't apply in that situation, but they came to Harry's mind anyway, and he had to fight back a smirk. It wasn't appropriate for a romantic song.

After Rachel, Brittany and Santana performed a song together, more suggestive than anything, however it showed how much they loved each other.

"Does anyone else want to perform?" Mr. Schue asked, and Harry took a deep breath, making his decision.

"I will."

Harry stood and headed to the front, making eye contact briefly with Puck, who was still watching his every move.

"Today could have been the day,  
That you blow out your candles,  
Make a wish as you close your eyes."

The words flowed easily, his eyes closing, thinking of the day Ginny pushed out the dead child, her labor been induced.

"Today could have been the day,  
Everybody was laughing,  
Instead I just sit here and cry,"

Kurt furrowed his brow, trying to figure out what Harry was trying to say, what he was trying to express, because he couldn't tell.

"Not a day goes by,  
That I don't think of you,  
I'm always asking why this crazy world had to lose,  
Such a ray of light we never knew,  
Gone too soon, yeah."

Quinn looked down at her lap, realizing what Harry was singing. He had a child, just like her, but he'd do anything to have her back, and she gave her child up willingly.

Rachel covered her mouth with a horrified expression, her heart breaking for the small boy before her, singing his heart out, letting out all the hurt someone had caused him.

"Who would you be,  
What would you look like,  
Would you have my smile and her eyes?  
Today could have been the next day of the rest of your life."

Harry thought back to when he held the cold body in his arms, tears dripping onto her sleeping (but not really sleeping) face. The way he vowed to kill Bellatrix that day for killing an innocent child who hadn't even been born.

"Not a day goes by,  
That I don't think of you,  
I'm always asking why this crazy world had to lose,  
Such a beautiful light we never knew,  
Gone too soon,  
You were gone too soon  
Yeah.

Not a day goes by,  
That I don't think of you."

He finished the song and looked around, again finding wet eyes and Quinn sobbing into Finn's arms, even though they weren't together.

_I can't make a habit of this._


	4. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys, I'm glad you guys seem to be liking this so I hope you enjoy it and read on!
> 
> This chapter does include slight mentions of rape if you squint, and it does include self harming, but not too extreme.

_Alone_

Harry managed to get through the evening without even seeing George, as he wasn't home, but if the post-it note on Harry's door was anything to go by, he felt guilty for hitting him, and wouldn't be doing it anytime soon.

However, that didn't stop Harry from hurting on the inside, his heart aching for his little girl and the love of his life. He knew he'd never have a life completely free of pain, but why did he have to hurt more than the average person; especially at his age.

If God exists, Harry though, he must be a cruel bastard, because what God would put a child through so much pain?

Harry could feel himself scratching at his skin, the pain almost welcoming. A lack of pain was wrong, and he needed more. The physical pain will take away the emotional. It will make him forget.

_Like alcohol makes George forget._

That thought was a little unnerving, and he pushed it aside, deciding that it would be a good idea just to go to bed, and get up extra early to do his homework.

After a long and loud night, Harry finally crawled out of bed at about 4:30, pulling his homework out. He did his Spanish first, then his math. The rest followed shortly, and an hour later, Harry jumped in the shower, freshening up.

He picked out a t-shirt and jeans, and threw the hoodie on over the top, hoping he didn't get too hot. He grabbed some breakfast and with a quick decision, he grabbed his car keys and drove to school for the first time.

Again, his first lesson was Spanish, so he instantly went to class, ignoring how early he was. Mr. Schue was already there, and was shocked Harry was there.

"That song you sang yesterday in Glee club … You've lost a child, haven't you?" The words were cautious, and Harry appreciated it, but it wouldn't make a difference. He'd still have to answer the question.

Being the first to class wasn't a great thing.

"Yeah, a little girl," Harry responded, not looking at the man that somehow reminded him of his father, "Ginny was six months gone when it happened, and her labour was induced. If that wasn't bad enough, Ginny was murdered a month later, leaving me all alone."

Harry thought back to something McGonagall said the day he announced he was leaving, when she thought he was out of earshot.

_Who is going to hold him now?_

He had ignored her words, but now, thinking about it, he needed someone to hold him at night after a nightmare, someone that didn't get angry that he had woken them, because the ones that cared were gone, and he was alone.

Harry scrubbed at his cheeks, hating the fact he was crying yet again. At 2, he had learnt not to cry, but now, he can't seem to stop.

Luckily, he was saved by Kurt's appearance, and they two boys quickly engaged in a conversation, leaving Mr. Schue to his thoughts.

He had sat down and read Harry's file the night before, and realised Harry had many problems and issues that should be dealt with.

Coming from a warzone, Harry would have lost people, but Mr. Schue had no idea that there would be so many issues. He's lost not only parents, but a little girl, someone who loves him, and probably most of his friends.

He was abused by his guardians and teachers, causing Harry to be untrusting and the words he sung were the only information his new friends got from him, and Mr. Schue didn't know whether he wanted to hide the small boy from harm or find who damaged him and kill them.

Harry Potter was alone, with no one to hold him, and no one understood what that was like.

Students came piling in, distracting the three already there from hushed conversations and dangerous thoughts. Mr. Schue began the lesson, but his eyes never truly stopped watching Harry the entire time.

When the hour was up, Harry was called back to stay for a moment.

"Sir, I-" Harry began, pointing at the door.

"I just want to say I'm here if you need me," The teacher said, and Harry turned to leave the classroom. Moments before he vanished out, he threw a last comment over his shoulder.

"I've heard that before."

As Harry headed to Legal Studies, he thought about what Mr. Schue said. He knew the teacher was just trying to do his job, but it didn't help.

No matter what anyone said, what the truth was, Harry knew that he wasn't a child anymore and that he needed to cope alone. That meant not bothering anyone with his problems, and dealing with it alone.

_But look where that got you._

The little voice in the back of his head sounded like Hermione, and he found himself shaking his head, his shoulders drooping.

He slipped into class and into his seat next to Artie, not making a sound. Artie did say hello, but Harry couldn't bring himself to respond, Hermione's voice echoing in his head.

The lesson began, and Harry didn't even bother pretending to take notes, sinking into his mind and watching Hermione dance with Ron, the brief moments of happiness they had; the quiet before the storm.

As he lost himself in the memory, the music came back to him, reminding him of how he held Ginny that night, kissing her small bump, singing soft tunes.

_"Dance with me," Harry murmured softly to the woman, his hand resting on her bump. She didn't look up at him, but she interlinked her hand with his, and they began to sway softly to the music._

_"Harry?" Ginny asked tentatively, "Will you make it out alive?"_

_Harry sighed, closing his eyes. She had been dancing on the edge of the question for a long time, and he knew she'd ask soon._

_"I don't know, my love," Harry whispered, sinking to his knees, "But I do know that I'll love you and our baby girl 'til the end of time, no matter what happens to us."_

_He raised her top a little and kissed the bump where his baby, their baby, was growing, and he hoped she looked like her mother with Harry's eyes._

Harry was pulled back to earth by the lesson ending and he couldn't help but dash out of the room, the teacher barely finishing her dismissal. Hands on his shoulders scared him, and he swung around, raising his fist, ready to hit the person behind him. When he realised it was only Kurt he lowered his hand, but he remained tense.

"I won't be doing that again. You okay?" The question was simple, and all Harry had to do was say yes, but he was interrupted by being covered in a cold blue liquid.

"Oh, I'm so so sorry. I forgot to tell you about them!" The distressed cry from Kurt came, however, Harry couldn't see him due to his glasses being blue, "That is Karofsky and Azimio, the bullies of our school."

"Oh, okay… Kurt, could you help me to the toilets; I can't see."

Sounding flustered, Kurt continued apologising as they made their way to the bathroom, Harry trusting Kurt with his life in that second, "It's my entire fault. If I hadn't introduced myself, you wouldn't have been slushied."

"Kurt, stop fussing!" Harry snapped, taking his glasses off and putting his bag on the side, nearly missing it by an inch. Kurt had quietened, and just stood there.

Harry turned the tap on and splashed his face with water, trying to rid himself of the blue stains. He then ran his glasses under the tap and slid them onto his face.

"Why'd they do it, Kurt?" Harry asked softly, opening his bag to find his spare t-shirt. Kurt mumbled his response, so Harry asked him to repeat himself, which Kurt did with no question.

"They did it because I'm gay." The words frightened Harry, his hands stilling in his bag.

_Relax; he's not your Uncle, Harry._

Again, Hermione spoke up, and again, it was no comfort. Harry knew this would be unavoidable, but his newest friend; no, he couldn't do it.

"Um, Kurt, I'm going to get changed. You go to math, I'll meet you there."

Harry wasn't sure what he was scared of, Kurt hurting him, or Kurt being disgusted in the sight of his marred body.

"Okay, good luck getting that out your hair, I'll see you in a bit," Kurt said, and Harry could tell he had hurt him, but he couldn't bear to lose him so soon, no matter how little Harry trusted him.

Harry shrugged off the stained hoodie, and shoved it into a plastic bag, frowning. He hit his hair with a quick cleaning spell, then dampening it with the water. Then, he pulled out the spare tee in his bag, closing his eyes as he pulled the dirty one off, and slipped the clean one on. He opened his eyes again, and stuffed the tee into the plastic bag. He shoved it in the bag, glad it made no difference to the weight of the bag, and left for class, hoping Kurt didn't question him.

When he got out of math, Kurt hadn't even spoken to him, and just kept his eyes on his phone or his work. However, Harry knew he was upset with him the moment Mercedes stormed up to him, a death glare on her (usually) kind face.

"You're a homophobe?" She hissed, dragging him away from the crowds of students, her tight grip making Harry uncomfortable.

"No, I am not," Harry began, snatching his wrist back, "I was going to ask him to leave anyway, it was just bad timing. I knew many gay people, trust me; I have no problem with them."

Mercedes shook her head, disbelieving of his words.

"Really, Mercedes, it's true. I've just had bad experiences with men in the same room as me when I'm getting changed, and it makes me uncomfortable, even if there is a barrier. I'd tell you why, but that would be telling you my life story, so maybe another day."

His tone became a bit lighter, but inside, he was terrified. He had just found out his friend was gay, Hermione was driving him insane and his throat was hurting from last night when he spent most of it screaming.

The truth of being alone was kicking in, and it was starting to scare him.

As Harry turned to walk to his next lesson, Mercedes caught his arm with a horrified gasp, and Harry's eyes welled with tears as she uttered the words he feared the most.

"Your arm…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: How did I do? Thanks for reading, please comment.


	5. Dangerous Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys, I'm glad you guys seem to be liking this so I hope you enjoy it and read on!
> 
> This chapter does include slight mentions of rape if you squint, and it does include a suicide attempt.

* * *

_Desperate Times_

He found his feet running, escaping the school, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't do it. He couldn't face Kurt, or anyone, and now Mercedes knows about his arms, she was going to tell them, and he just couldn't do it.

He was somewhat glad he'd brought his car in, for the fact he could drive home without question, and no one else had to see him. Not yet, he wasn't ready.

He also hoped Kurt wouldn't be phoning the home phone. He had given Kurt his number the day before, and he knew there was a possibility he'd call up with questions.

Questions Harry couldn't answer.

As Harry drove, he sobbed softly, his heart hurting again, and he couldn't make it go away. By the time he got home, he was a sobbing mess, and he needed to be held. He wanted Ginny more than ever before, because he wanted to hold her, for her to hold him, and cry together.

However, the only person home was George, and he was drunk, again, slurring his words, "What are you doing home, freak?"

Harry had only just shut the door and he felt like he was 7 again when his teacher sent him home with a tummy bug and no one came for him.

"I couldn't cope," The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and the thunderous look on George's face made Harry wonder if he should have stayed at school.

However, the look gave way to pity, and George opened his arms. Harry, being as weak as he was, stumbled forward, his heart breaking further than it already was, and didn't expect the blow that sent him flying backwards into the front door.

"How dare you? We've all lost something in this war! It doesn't mean you can get away with moping about all day and using it as an excuse. And anyway, why should you get to be so upset? You're the one who killed them, remember?"

Harry sunk to the floor, sobs wracking his body, an idea coming to his mind. George vanished into the kitchen, and Harry crawled up the stairs into his room. He managed to sit up on the chair and he pulled out a pen and piece of paper.

_Dear everyone,_

_I'm sorry. I'm so goddamn sorry that I don't think sorry cuts it anymore, but that's okay; I can't think of another word to use._

_I've only been attending McKinley High for three days and I've pissed off my first friend there and someone saw. The secret keeping is breaking me, and I want to tell you so my, and I fucking can't and it hurts._

_I want my mum and dad, I want Padfoot and Moony, I really want Hermione and Ron, and I can't live a second longer without Ginny or my little girl._

_So, I guess this is goodbye. I'd ask George to burn all my belongings, but I don't believe he is even sober enough to be reading this, so I'll leave that down to anyone who has the time. I do not want a funeral; I just want my body to be taken back to England and buried with Ginny under the tree._

_I'm sorry, Kurt, for making you think I'm homophobic. Truth is, I am uncomfortable with most people and men in particular. Unfortunately, I do have one experience with a gay man I really wouldn't want to repeat, and just the thought terrified me, even though I know you wouldn't even consider it._

_George, I'm sorry for killing your family. I just turned up at the wrong time. Now, you can be happy; I'll never hurt anyone again._

_I've got nothing left to live for, and I guess this is goodbye. Thank you to Kurt, Mercedes and everyone else in Glee Club that made my last few days good ones, it just… It isn't enough, and never will be. You can't replace them._

_With all the love that is left in me,_   
_Harry James Potter_

Harry folded the letter, and slid it into an envelope, titling it, 'to whom it may concern', before heading into the bathroom.

He put the envelope on the side, out of the way, before opening the medicine cabinet. He knew Tylenol would take forever to kill him, putting that straight out the window. The rest were sobering potions and dreamless sleep, designed to look like pill bottles to muggles.

Damnit.

Okay, Harry thought, overdose was out the window. He looked over at his razor, knowing his nails weren't long enough to do the job.

He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, and then got to work, removing the blade. He removed his shirt, and started running a bath, deciding he'd put on an act, just in case George came up.

Once he got the blade out, he stared at it, a little smile forming on his lips. He began humming as he pressed the blade to his skin, dragging across the section he had always avoided, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Downstairs, the doorbell had rung, and with a quick sobering potion, George found himself opening the door.

On the other side, was a tall man in a vest, shirt and tie. Of course a teacher would show up; Harry had skipped school.

"Mr Weasley, am I correct?" The man asked, and George nodded.

"Yes, is this about Harry leaving school early?" George asked softly, keeping his tone friendly. George hated Harry, but no one else could know that, could they?

"Um, yeah. I'm his Spanish teacher, and the leader of Glee club, and I just brought his homework from his last two lessons, and I was hoping I could have a chat with him," The man said and George swallowed nervously.

He knew Harry's intentions were suicidal and he didn't want to interrupt the dangerous activities he was up to, but he would have to.

"Okay, I'll take you through to the living room and then I'll call for Harry. What is your name?" George said, beckoning the man in and shutting the door.

"William Schuester. I only brought it because Kurt was panicking about Harry," The man said, and George nodded like he had a clue what William was talking about.

William.

William Weasley.

The first brother Harry killed.

A thud from upstairs startled the two men, and George called up, "Harry, are you okay?"

With no response, the two men ran up the stairs, two at a time, and when Harry's room was empty, he tried the bathroom.

"Harry, I know you aren't going to like this so you better respond to me," George said in his most caring but strict voice he could manage.

When there was nothing, George tried to open the door, but it was locked, and even throwing his body weight against the door didn't help, so with a silent 'Alohomora', the door opened, and there Harry was, shirtless and bleeding to death. He noted the letter on the side, and knelt on the floor, checking for a pulse, as William called an ambulance, in shock at the sight of Harry's back, his body covered in scars.

George just hoped they'd be too late.

Once at the hospital, William was making phone calls, and George had only made one to McGonagall. He knew she would blame him, and he dreaded 9 hours' time when she turned up with Luna in tow.

Two kids had turned up, and they seemed guilty, like they blamed themselves, and George decided he'd let them feel that way while he went for a coffee.

"Kurt, Mercedes, while Mr. Weasley is gone, I need you to read this. I think he's been abusing Harry, and I just need confirmation," Mr Schue said, handing them the letter.

Kurt scanned over it, tears pooling in his eyes, and he realised it wasn't him, it was just memories of being attacked.

As Kurt got to the next paragraph he gasped and began reading aloud, "George, I'm sorry for killing your family. I just turned up at the wrong time. Now, you can be happy; I'll never hurt anyone again."

"No," Mercedes interrupted, "George made him think like that. Harry was very involved in the British war, I believe, he was the one to end it, it was in the British papers, so I don't think he did. He may have accidentally caused it, but I don't think it was his fault. He didn't fire the gun."

Mr. Schue sighed, draping his arm around a crying Kurt and holding him close, "We'll have to wait 'til he wakes up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: How did I do? Thanks for reading, please comment.


	6. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm updating this a little earlier than I would like, due to Harry and JK's birthdays, and the book release of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. This is my longest chapter as of yet, so please enjoy a lengthy read.

_Broken_

It was 3am when Minerva McGonagall showed up with a girl with dirty blonde hair in tow. They both were clutching a coffee and they looked exhausted. The girl also looked like she had been crying, but she perked up at the sight of two teenagers sleeping on each other.

Will had tried to send them home, but after getting permission from their parents, he relented, allowing them to stay. Mercedes kept muttering things under her breath that neither man understood, and she glared at the door until she fell asleep, cursing George Weasley for never returning.

Kurt had cried for a while, but with Mr. Schue's comfort, he eventually dropped off to sleep, resting his head on Mercedes shoulder. She had wrapped an arm around the thin boy, her mutterings never pausing for a second, and in the silence, Mr. Schue thought he caught her train of thought.

"I didn't tell. My fault; I didn't tell. I should have told someone."

Her mutterings didn't even sound like Mercedes, but he left her too it, not sure if he was hearing right, and eventually, sleep overtook her.

When McGonagall entered the room, a harsh look upon her face, her eyes scanned the room, narrowing as they landed on the three in the corner.

"Where is Mr. Weasley?" The woman said, her voice stern like she was talking to a two year old and Mr. Schue felt slightly intimidated.

"He left the hospital hours ago. He's passed out in his bathroom in his own vomit. I told you he shouldn't have come with Harry."

The words came from the blonde girl, and her big dreamy eyes contradicted her words. Obviously, there were definitely issues with George Weasley being Harry's guardian.

"Thank you, Luna, and I will not ask how you know that." The lady said, not even looking at her. The blonde girl, Luna, smiled at the small praise, and went to sit beside Mercedes, smiling fondly at the sleeping teenager.

Mr. Schue stood up, "I'm guessing you are Minerva McGonagall. George told me you were coming before he left 'for a coffee'. I'm William Schuester, Harry's teacher."

She held out her hand, and they shook, her firm grasp pleasing, "I taught Harry, but I looked after him too; it was my job as his head of house. I know him better than most."

"Glad someone does. We're still waiting to see him, so you might want to have a seat." William murmured, gesturing to the seat beside the one he was originally sat in.

Luna was humming sadly, playing with a strand of hair, her eyes filled with tears. She stood from her seat and went to the window where the doctors were surrounding his bed, and she knew he had gone into cardiac arrest again.

That was the fourth time, and Luna wasn't sure if she was able to watch him be resuscitated again.

She turned away, and looked over to the Spanish teacher talking softly to her headmistress, and she suddenly realised what needed to happen.

Luna's life was full of sudden realisations and 'just knowing's, and although no one, not even her father, understood, it was like her mind was needed, especially for Harry.

"Harry needs you, and you need him."

The words may have been too quiet for the man to hear, but McGonagall turned her head, watching Luna slip out the door, needing the cold early morning air… and a cigarette.

She was found leaning against the wall by the teacher about half hour later, her cigarette between her fingers, and sobs on her lips.

William embraced the 16 year old girl, and he felt her fingers clutch onto his vest.

"It's my fault he's here," Luna sobbed, her shoulders shaking, "If I wasn't so clumsy, so fucking out of it, he wouldn't be here. He'd have his little girl, and he'd have Ginny. He'd have a reason to live."

He didn't say anything, but he held her tighter, sniffling slightly.

By the time the two had composed themselves and made their way back into the hospital, Minerva was sitting with Harry, holding his hand and talking to him.

"I sent you with George, and I agreed with him that it would be best. I ignored his drinking and Luna's concerns and gave into him, and I shouldn't have. I've failed you again, and this time I don't think I can fix it this time."

"You can," A voice from the doorway caught her attention, and she looked over at the tall man, surprised, "He hasn't died this time, so there is still time to make things better. However, he may succeed next time, and then there will be nothing for you to fix because you were too late."

His words cut straight through her, and she looked down at her lap like she had been scolded, but the man continued, his voice now softer, "I think you ought to get some sleep. Luna has planned to go to a hotel and get some rest, so I think you should join him. I'm taking the day off; I'm in no state to teach and I doubt the kids are going to school, either. Leave me a phone number and I'll contact you when he wakes, and when he's been moved to the wards."

The lady composed herself, and passed him a card with her mobile number on it, standing to leave.

"Don't break him like we did. I don't think we'd be able to put him back together."

The words sounded broken in themselves, and her beaten tone proved it. As she slipped away, Will took her seat, taking Harry's hand into his own.

"You are one of my kids now, Harry, and that means you matter to me. You have so much to live for, and we're all here for you, no matter what you've done. The only thing that disgusts me about this entire situation is the people who did this to you."

Will brushed his fingers across Harry's forehead, brushing the hair out of his eyes. His glasses had been broken in his fall, but Will would sort an eye appointment, because something in his gut told him George wouldn't.

"Mr. Schue?" Came a tired voice, and Will smiled. Kurt was awake.

Will stood and slipped out of the room, finding both Kurt and Mercedes waking up, Mercedes stretching and Kurt rubbing his eyes. William looked down at his watch and saw that it was only 5am, and he hadn't slept in over 24 hours.

"Is Harry okay?" Mercedes asked, her eyes searching him for an answer. Will sighed, lowering his gaze.

"Physically, yes; he will make a full recovery, however the emotional side may take a little longer. He isn't awake yet, but you can go and see him. Then I suggest you go home, have a shower, get changed and come back. Your parents are aware of the situation, and have already made plans to call the school so you can have the day off," Will paused for a moment, thinking over things for a second, "I also suggest contacting the other glee club members and telling them not to go to rehearsal, but they may visit after school. Understand?"

The two nodded, and Mercedes rushed into the room, wanting to see him.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I'll make sure you know how loved you are when you wake up, I promise." Her words were whispered in his ear, tears glistening on her cheeks and after pressing a kiss to his forehead like a mother would their child, she left, allowing Kurt to have his moment.

"I'm sorry I assumed the worst of you when you asked me to leave, it didn't occur to me that you may be genuinely uncomfortable with men. I hope you forgive me."

His words were not as heartfelt as Mercedes, but he had no idea what had happened between the two, her only words to him about Harry being, "He isn't homophobic. Don't be so quick to judge."

As he left the room, he didn't see the tear slip down Harry's cheek, the broken boy having been awake since McGonagall left, "I'm sorry, too."

When Mercedes and Kurt returned, clean and freshly clothed, Harry was being moved up to the wards. Mr. Schue was walking along aside the bed with a girl who had dirty blonde hair. Harry seemed to be awake, tears sliding down his cheeks, his soft sobs seeming louder than they were due to the echo of the corridor.

Mercedes and Kurt followed wordlessly, making brief eye contact with their teacher, who tried to smile at them but he just couldn't. The pain of watching a child suffer like this was too great, so he kept his eyes on Harry, softly brushing his hair back and trying to sooth his pain.

The blonde girl didn't look up at them, but Kurt could have sworn she somewhat relaxed as Mr. Schue made eye contact with them, but he couldn't understand how she would know.

When the nurses pushed Harry into a private room, the blonde girl and Mr. Schue stayed with Mercedes and Kurt as the staff got him settled, taking a seat outside.

"Hello Kurt, Mercedes, I'm Luna. I am an old friend of Harry's, but I'm glad he has made new ones."

The moments she finished her greeting, she left their line of sight, and the three humans assumed she went to get a coffee.

The nurse came out, her blue eyes pained and lost as she made eye contact with the teacher sat next to the two children, "Mr. Schuester, Harry is asking for his guardian. Shall I attempt to contact him, or shall I just contact the children's services for blatant neglect?"

The words were practically spat, as George's disappearance yesterday hadn't been taken too lightly; a teacher who had known the child for three days was more willing to stay than his own guardian. Who even did that?

"Um…" Mr. Schue was stuck; he had never been in this situation before, he wasn't sure what to do, "I don't know. Can I go and see him, though? I've got a feeling he won't take very lightly to decisions being made for him."

The nurse smiled and nodded, gesturing to the door. Mr. Schue stood, and with a final glance at the two teenagers who were discussing songs to sing for Harry, an idea in his own mind for that, he entered the room.

Harry was now sat up, his sobs having subsided, but the tears still slipped down his cheeks. His wrists were bandaged and his hands were folded in his lap, "They want to call children's services, don't they."

Although it was worded like a question, it was a statement, and Mr. Schue nodded, taking a seat.

"Luna said that I should let what happens happen, and when it comes, make the right decision. Is this that decision?"

The teacher sighed, leaning forward, "I don't know, but I do know that this is your life. I know you were abused growing up, and I know you were in the middle of the British war."

The man paused, looking for any signs of further distress before continuing, "Moving into a stranger's house isn't an option for you, and for sure, if they call children's services, you will go into foster care. I suggest you find someone you truly trust, not out of obligation, and have them come to you."

Harry nodded slowly, biting his lip, "Can you get Luna?"

As he murmured the words, she came around the corner, peering into the room with a coffee in hand, "Hey Harry."

As Mr. Schue got up to leave, he felt a hand on his arm. It was Harry's and his green eyes looked up with him with such an innocence that hurt, "Thank you."

The man nodded and exited to find Mercedes and Kurt arguing over which song they wanted to go for him, so he sat down and decided he'd throw something in that was completely different.

"How about Skin by Sixx AM? It would probably be a good one for him to feel more than those. It's comforting, and it shows that you can see him, not what he looks or seems like."

The two looked at him, and Kurt looked vaguely impressed, "Hm. Hadn't even thought of that."

"Once Luna has come out, you should go in and see him. I think it'll do him good to see that you care, even though you've only known him a few days."

The two nodded, and then began discussing how they were going to perform for him and when. After 20 minutes, Luna came out, and she smiled. She handed him a coffee that had been on the table, and replaced Mercedes' seat, smiling.

"Harry trusts you, y'know. Not very much, but he trusts you more than he trusts me at this precise moment, which is saying something. Harry trusts no one," She said, grabbing a magazine, "I heard what you said to him, and I agree with part of it, but I think, no, I know that Harry doesn't need anyone from home. He needs somewhere and someone new; someone who can teach him the difference in attempted murder and a friendly handshake, someone who can salvage what is left of his childhood and someone who can love him without a thought to what he's done. And although I only know one person who can do all that, Harry has to make that choice and pick him to be his saviour, his friend and his confident."

Mr. Schue nodded slowly, taking in the speech she had just given while flicking through a magazine, "And who might that be?"

"You."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do? Thanks for reading, please comment.


End file.
